Let This Be Enough
by VoyICJ
Summary: Charles and Elsie adapt to their new life.


A tiny offering for Chelsiefan71's Virtual Season 7 project. Thank you for organizing it!

This has not been betaed and I haven't written anything in a while… maybe you'd best consider this a fair warning ;)

* * *

Elsie Carson tiredly shifted the basket she was carrying from her right to her left arm. She had hoped that her husband might come and walk her home tonight, she certainly would have appreciated it in light of the heavy basket filled with provisions that Beryl Patmore had presented her with at the end of her work day.

But he hadn't been there and she was left to carry her load home herself. Truth was that she was tired – more tired than she could remember being in a long while.

She had thought that the Crawleys' social obligations would quieten down now that all daughters were settled in marriage and the only one remaining at home was in the family way again. She had been wrong. Bolstered by Lady Edith's rise in the ranks of nobility, the family entertained as much as they had done right after Lady Mary's first nuptials. It seemed as if every family in the northern part of the Kingdom suddenly wished to be received at the Abbey and a large shooting party as well as an impromptu winter ball had had to be organized.

Unfortunately, the increase in the family's social activities coincided with her husband's semi-retirement. Therefore, on top of performing her duties as housekeeper, she also had to take some hours aside to instruct Mr Barrow. The young man was well prepared for his new position – at least in theory. In reality, he still needed her reassurance, her guidance.

Apparently the new Butler found it easier to confess his insecurities to her than to his predecessor. The afternoons following Mr. Carson's visits to the Abbey to school the new Butler in the finesse of making the right wine choices and keeping the books tidy often found Mr Barrow coming to the Housekeeper's sitting room to ask all the questions his pride had prevented him from asking Mr. Carson directly.

Mr. Carson. Her husband. Once the proud Butler of Downton Abbey, he had been forced into an unwanted retirement by a condition that Dr. Clarkson was hesitant to name and for which there was neither a clear prognosis nor any form of treatment. Dr. Clarkson had seemed cautiously optimistic when they had gone to see him, had spoken of the tremor likely being of the mild variety. Unpredictable in its occurrence but manageable and probably restricted to the hands.

However, the good doctor hadn't been certain, had explained that the brain was an organ that was still mostly unknown in its functionality.

The uncertainty weighed on them both but more on Charles than on her. She was prepared to accept the doctor's upbeat reassurances and was intent on not borrowing trouble. They'd deal with whatever happened when it happened. Just as they had always done.

Charles had a harder time accepting his new condition and the limitations it brought. Which was, she mused, the main reason for her current feelings of exhaustion. Tip-toeing around him and his ever changing moods was tiresome and it didn't help that he suffered from bouts of insomnia which not only kept him awake but her as well – his restless tossing and turning causing the bed to shake and her to wake at regular intervals.

She heaved a sigh of relief when their cottage came into view. She fumbled with her keys for a moment before quietly opening the door, somewhat apprehensive of what she would find inside. On some days she was greeted with a kind smile and loving kiss on the cheek, on others she was met with his brooding face and a tense enquiry after the kind of dinner she brought home.

Today, she was met with silence when she pushed the door open. She doubted he'd have gone out at this time of day – or at any time on any day for that matter. She vividly remembered the scandalized look on his face when she had suggested that he might like to get more involved in the village affairs now he was retired. The prospect had obviously not appealed to him in the least and the reward for her suggestion had been a frosty dinner followed by another night of incessant tossing and turning on his part. She knew he was worried about being the source of gossip – or worse, pity – but she knew from personal experience that this wouldn't change unless he went to face the situation head-on.

It didn't take Elsie long to discover the reason for the cottage's silence. Her husband sat in his favourite armchair (a retirement gift from the family) in front of their fire place, fast asleep and snoring gently.

She wasn't surprised to find him like this. Last night had been another restless night for him. Her insistence that he need not get up with her this morning and that he should get a few more hours of sleep had been met with a defiant squaring of shoulders from him and a sharp reminder that he might not be able to do a lot of things but he was well able to get up for breakfast with his wife. So she'd let him – too tired herself to do much protesting.

Elsie quietly made her way to the kitchen and put down her basket before tiptoeing back into their sitting room. She fondly shook her head when she saw that he had obviously been working on something when he had fallen asleep, pages of paper strewn around him, his right hand still clutching his fountain pen.

She bent down to pick up the scattered pages, her amused smile fading when she realized what he had been doing before sleep had claimed him. He had been balancing their budget. Again.

Sometimes it seemed as if that was all he was doing nowadays. Crunching numbers with a worried frown on his face, with increasing desperation visible in his dark eyes when he realized that the results on the paper wouldn't change – no matter how often he wrote them down and changed them around.

She knew that it bothered him that she had to continue working. He felt guilty about the fact that he couldn't provide for her the way he thought a husband should.

What he didn't realize though, was what he did to her every time he brought up their income and his retirement schemes again. It broke her heart to see him this dispirited because of their finances. She had had a lifetime to get used to being a pauper. For him, having to limit himself in his spending was a new experience.

What was worst, however, was the knowledge that he needed her at home. That he'd profit from having her home to help him navigate this new world he found himself in. It didn't matter that the time until her retirement was limited (only a year, until either their bed and breakfast made profit or he reached his 70th birthday and his retirement schemes payed off). He needed her now and she couldn't be there. Because she had nothing to show for her fifty years of hard work – unlike other women he might have married and who might have been able to retire with him because they had funds to contribute.

Elsie blamed it on her exhaustion that she felt tears filling her eyes as she grouped the sheets of paper together and put them on the little side table. A quick glance at her husband assured her that he was still happily asleep and she hoped that his dreams were sweeter than the reality they occasionally found themselves in.

She resisted the urge to gently smooth his hair back from his forehead and press a soft kiss there. He could sleep a bit more before she had to wake him for dinner. With a little luck he'd be well rested enough for them to enjoy some quiet time after dinner – although she was not sure how she'd manage to keep her eyes open until then.

* * *

When Charles woke, he was unsure at first of what had woken him. He was quickly reassured when the familiar sounds of his wife preparing dinner in their kitchen reached his ears.

He briefly closed his eyes in frustration, annoyed that he had fallen asleep and failed to pick her up at the Abbey. He had planned on doing that today, knowing that he had kept her awake last night with his listlessness.

He pushed himself up from his chair and quietly made his way towards the kitchen. Once he had reached the open entryway, he halted in his movements, taking a moment to study his wife.

She had her back to him and was chopping vegetables for whatever dish Mrs. Patmore had provided for them this evening. Even though he couldn't see her face, he knew that she was exhausted. She allowed her body to rest heavily against the cabinet, her shoulders were slumped and she rolled her neck from left to right in an attempt to relieve some of the tension that had settled there.

It was a testament to how tired she was that she didn't hear him as he walked up to her. Even at the Abbey, when his light steps had been muffled by the thick carpets, she had always known when he was near.

When he put his hands onto her shoulders, she stood upright with a start but quickly relaxed again when he began to gently massage her shoulders.

"I didn't even hear you come in," he rumbled quietly and smiled softly when he felt her leaning back against him.

"No, I dare say you were occupied otherwise."

He applied a little more pressure to the left side of her neck, glad that his hands were steady today. A little sigh of relief escaped his wife and he took it as a sign that she wanted him to continue with his gentle ministrations.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, you needed sleep." She wiped her hands at the dishtowel and reached up to pat his right hand with hers. Then she stood up straighter. "And now be off with you, I need to finish this."

Instead of stepping away from her, though, he turned her around and pulled her into his arms.

"Charles!" she protested half-heartedly but then melted into his embrace when he simply tightened his arms around her in response.

For a long while they stood in the middle of their kitchen in silent embrace, the only sound that of Elsie's dress rustling as her husband soothingly ran his broad hands over her back. When he felt Elsie leaning even heavier against him, he couldn't help a small chuckle from escaping.

"You are not falling asleep on me, are you?"

Her only reply was a deep and sleepy hum and he chuckled again, enjoying the way she tightened her arms around him in response to his amusement.

"Right!" he declared, grasping her shoulders and pushing her away from him gently. "Come on!" he ordered and began to lead her from the kitchen.

"Charles, your dinner!" Elsie protested but he shushed her by putting his arm around her shoulders and drawing her close to him.

"Dinner will keep. What you need is sleep and to be quite honest, I am not very hungry anyway. I'd much rather spend some time in bed with my darling wife."

He nearly chuckled again upon her attempt at looking at him disapprovingly for his flattery – especially as that look collided quite endearingly with her sleepiness.

* * *

When she stepped out of the bathroom half an hour later, she found the bed turned down for her. The sun had long set despite the fact that it was barely gone six o'clock. Sometimes the dreary month of February did have its advantages. She couldn't even remember the last time she had gone to bed before ten but she didn't find it in herself to care too much.

Charles was already settled against the pillows and smiled gently at her as she slipped into bed next to him. He immediately gathered her close and she smiled in silent pleasure as her head came to rest on his chest.

Listening to the calming sound of his steady heartbeat, she was once again reminded of the reason why being married to her husband was a blessing for which she gave thanks every day.

Despite all their small and bigger problems, despite all the anguish and the conflict they had had to work through in their short time of marriage, there was no place on Earth that made her feel safer and more loved than when she was resting in her husband's arms.

"Go to sleep, Elsie," he ordered quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. She lovingly pressed her lips against his pyjama top to where his heart beat underneath her before nestling even closer to him. For once in their married life, she didn't have a teasing reply, a witty repartee for him. For once, she simply did as he told her and allowed her husband's gentle caresses and his protective embrace to lull her into some much needed sleep.

* * *

Thank you for reading. I'd be very grateful if you left a review. Thank you.


End file.
